


Empty Dreams

by Miscellaneous_Subtext



Series: NSFW Friday's [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dark fic, Dreams and Nightmares, M/M, Non-Consensual, Please be warned, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miscellaneous_Subtext/pseuds/Miscellaneous_Subtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Occasionally, Will dreams about it, dreams about Hannibal, dreams about being bent over the desk or pressed against a wall... But there just dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So this is first Hannibal fic I've finished and published... It's quite dark, Will is dreaming but still... Just be warned ok

Will has dreams about it sometimes. Dreams about Hannibal stepping up behind him, his long fingers on his waist, gentle right up until Hannibal is shoving him into a wall or over the desk. 

Hannibal's fingers are cold as they drag his pants down, dry, cold and smooth. They feel strange as they stroke over his ass, across Will's cheeks and into the cleft of his ass. They find his hole with frightening accuracy that speaks of skill and practice. The first touch always makes Will flinch and wiggle, trying to escape Hannibal's hold. But Hannibal's other hand always finds the back of his neck, pins him down or against the wall.

Tonight he's over the desk, Will can see the books in the shelves, can see the wood of the desk, but he can't see Hannibal, can only feel him as he strokes cold, dry fingers over Will's hole. Hannibal leans over him, breathing in Will's ear and Will can feel the scrap of wool against his back. It sends a shiver down his spin, and he arches up into the touch, not sure if he's trying to push Hannibal off or begging for more. 

Hannibal pushes one finger in, it burns, but it's also so cold. Like cold fire. Will whines, tries to scramble forward, his nails digging useless into the polished wood of the desk. There is a soft growl behind him and Will freezes. Hannibal never speaks, not here, never here in these dreams, but he does growl. Sounds that seem like warnings, questions and occasionally sounds of pleasure. Here, Hannibal is a wild thing, and Will is his prey. 

A second finger follows the first, just as cold as the first, but this one always drags more, hurts more, sends jolts of unpleasant sensation through Will's body. He bites his lip, curls his fingers around the edge of the desk and goes still. Hannibal's fingers part as they slide out of Will, they stretch him apart and Will can taste blood in his mouth as he bites his lip harder. 

He feels warm breath on his neck, feels Hannibal's nose and mouth glide along the back of his neck. Will hears him take a deep breath and then his fingers slide back in again. Will jerks, but he's still pinned down and there is nowhere to go. Hannibal twists his fingers in deeper, ghosts the very tips along Will's prostrate and Will gasps, dick twitching. 

Then Hannibal pulls back, stands up, leaving Will cold apart from the hand on his neck that is still holding him down. The first touch of liquid makes Will squirm, shifting from side to side to stop the liquid sliding down the cleft of his ass. It doesn't help though, because Hannibal's fingers return then and work the liquid across his cheeks and into his whole. The smell from the liquid is strong, olive oil, a smell Will is used to as Hannibal often uses it in his cooking.

Hannibal works to fingers in again, slick now with the oil, he presses in, presses down harder on Will's prostrate and makes Will shudder. His dick is hard now, hard and twitching in the cold air. He knows what's coming, his whole body knows and he tells himself he's ready, even when he knows it's a lie.

Slowly, Hannibal slides his finger out, spreading them apart, letting the crooked tips catch on the rim of Will's hole. Will jolts away from the slight hint of fingernails, they feel like the drag of a sharp knife alone his skin. Not quite cutting, but knowing that a little more pressure would make his skin split apart, leaving him open a vulnerable.

Three fingers press in and it feels like to much, cold fire burns up Will's skin and he begins to tremble. He's desperate, desperate for it to stop, desperate for more, just desperate for something. He lets his lip slide from his teeth and he licks the blood from his lips. Hannibal's fingers finger his prostrate and ram into it hard. Once, twice, three times, hard and fast and slick and it pulls startled gasped from Will's open mouth.

"Now..." Will says, voice rough like he's gone without water to long. Hannibal spreads his fingers as wide as he can as he slides them out, makes Will moan as they finally come free. Hannibal never says anything, but he won't take Will until Will asks. There's seems to be plenty of rules to this thing between them, rules that only Hannibal knows and Will is expected to abide by.

The hand on the back of his neck tightens and Will feels Hannibal presses his cheeks apart, lets the head of his dick press against Will's hole. Will whines and tenses up, fingernails dig into his neck, a warning that he needs to relax. Will doesn't listen, just tightens his grip on the desk and bites his lip again.

There's a huff above him, one that sounds disapproving, but it doesn't stop Hannibal from pressing closer. The head of his cock presses down hard on Will's rim until it finally pops in, then it's all a rush. Hannibal buries himself to the hilt in one swift thrust and Will feels split apart. There's blood in his mouth again and it makes his noise twitch. 

Hannibal slides out again slowly and Will arches up as Hannibal's dick slides over his prostrate again. Then Hannibal slams in again, hard and fast, it rocks Will forward and he gasps. 

Hannibal leans forward, lips brushing Will's neck and then his teeth are sinking in holding Will down, holding him motionless as Hannibal fucks into him. 

All Will can hear is the wet slap of flesh and the soft grunts of pleasure that fall from between Hannibal's teeth. It hurts, the grind of Hannibal's teeth in Will's vulnerable flesh. Hannibal's hands on his hips dig in and Will can almost feel the bruises forming, muscle giving under Hannibal's firm grip. The stab of Hannibal's dick deep inside him, touch his prostate on every thrust send white stars flickering across Will's vision. It hurts, but it's takes over. Will doesn't have to think, all thoughts flee his mind and he is left empty. Just a body, a body to be held down and filled. 

Will comes untouched, hands gripping the desk so hard his knuckles are white as Hannibal fucks into him and grinds into him, pressing deeper, harder. Hannibal growls around Will's flesh in his mouth, shoving himself impossible deep as he comes, filling Will with his come. 

They stay like that for what seems like an eternity, Will's legs wet with his own come and Hannibal still buried deep inside him, occasionally rocking forward and grinding himself into Will's over-sensitive body. 

It's when Hannibal pulls out, slides free of the hot clutch of Will's body that Will wakes up. The feeling of emptiness, the cold, leaves him aching inside. It feels wrong when all his thoughts rush back into his mind and he becomes more than just a warm body. He has a mind and troubles all over again. 

They're just dreams. Only dreams. Dreams that Will doesn't particularly enjoy. But sometimes it's easier, easier to be that empty creature in his dreams, than it is to be a complete person in reality.


End file.
